


You Sound Like You're Sick

by Eliza_Bella_xx



Category: MCR - Fandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: AU, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Sick Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-09 01:11:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7781137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eliza_Bella_xx/pseuds/Eliza_Bella_xx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'It was Tuesday, and Gerard's neighbour was coughing again.'</p><p>------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>A one shot Frerard fan fic based on Awful AU #90 by awful-aus.tumblr.com</p><p>Title/chapter description credit: You Sound Like You're Sick - The Ramones</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Sound Like You're Sick

It was Tuesday, and Gerard's neighbour was coughing again.

It wouldn't have bothered him so much if it weren't for a few reasons; firstly, Gerard was trying to focus on writing the fourth draft of his script for his comic series, which had already taken him over a month to get to this point, and the deadline was this Saturday; secondly, this particular neighbour lived above him in their apartment building and Gerard was ninety nine percent sure that ceilings and floors shouldn't be so thin; thirdly, he already had a headache - partially from too much coffee, but partly from needing new reading glasses as these ones were too small and dug into the sides of his head; and fourthly, his upstairs neighbour (whom he'd never even met) had now been coughing for four days straight. Not only was it getting on Gerard's nerves, but he was starting to feel concerned for his neighbour.

 

At three in the afternoon, after three attempted hours of writing and four cups of coffee, Gerard had had enough. The coffee hadn't helped him concentrate, instead just making his hands a little shaky, and his nameless neighbour's coughs had started to sound kind of painful, mixed in with retching sounds and heavy footfalls.

That was new, Gerard thought to himself, his neighbour hadn't been moving around all that much the past few days. Gerard turned away from his computer screen and slid his glasses on top of his dark hair, looking up at the ceiling and trying to follow the sound of movement across the room.

All the apartments on this side of the building had the same floorplan, so Gerard knew that as the slow tired 'thud thud thud' crossed overhead, accompanied with a few hacking coughs, the neighbour was heading to their kitchen.

Gerard sighed with slight relief, as the kitchen was in the furthest corner from where his desk was. If he could have just fifteen minutes more, he could get to the end of this particular issue and carry on with the rest when his neighbour was sleeping; not that his neighbour was sleeping too well - the coughing was almost constant, late at night and early in the morning.

Gerard put his glasses back on and got as far as typing two words before there was an almighty crash in the apartment above. Gerard flinched, then growled out of sheer frustration, pulling off his glasses and throwing them at the computer monitor, one of the lenses cracking from the force.

The crash from above him had continued, as the sounds of pots and pans scattering over the hard floor rang out, Gerard able to pick up on the sound of something rolling across the floor.

That was the final straw.

Partly out of concern, but mostly from pure irritation, Gerard snatched up his keys from the table by the door and stormed out of the apartment, heading for the stairs.

He didn't need to know what number the apartment was, he knew the plan of this building inside out and easily found the front door of his annoying neighbour. Upon knocking on the ugly green painted wood, tapping his foot impatiently, Gerard head the coughing on the other side of the door start up again and slowly get closer.

There was a thud, then the sound of the door being unlocked from the inside, accompanied with one more cough, before Gerard finally came face to face his upstairs neighbour.

Gerard had had intentions of yelling at this guy, asking why he didn't just go to a doctor and save probably countless others in the building from four days of torture by coughing.

But it was upon seeing how truly ill the young man on the other side of the door was, Gerard's annoyance all but vanished.

He'd seen this guy out around the building a few times, so he wasn't totally unfamiliar. This was the guy who spent far more time than he should sorting out what was trash and what was recyclable at the buildings bins, but who never bothered to separate whites, colours, darks and delicates in the laundry room; he was the same guy who's attracted quite a crowd outside on the street when a careless driver had hit a stray dog on the road outside, had called an emergency vet and sat with the dog until they arrived, and cried when he'd been told there was nothing they could do; this was the guy with dark chocolate hair, brandy hazel eyes, a lip ring, a nose ring, and a multitude of tattoos,who Gerard had always nicknamed in his head as the 'pretty punk boy'. This was also the guy, however, who was now peering at Gerard through the gap in his front door with dark circles under his bloodshot hazel eyes, sickly pale cheeks, and a less-than-healthy rattling sound coming from his throat ever time he exhaled.

 

"Can I help you?" He asked with a thick voice, running a hand through his hair and sweeping his dark fringe from his face.

"Um..." Gerard looked around the man's face trying to find a way to phrase his request, "Sorry, I uh, I live in the apartment below you, and you've been coughing, like... a lot."

The other man just looked at him, not seeing what Gerard was getting at.

"I-I guess... look, are you okay?" Gerard's forehead creased with concern as he asked, the man inside the apartment looking apathetic, then somewhat surprised.

"Oh..." he said, breath still rattling, "I'm just a bit sick, I'll be fine."

"Okay." Gerard nodded, not making a move to leave any time soon, instead shoving his hands in his pockets, "I'm Gerard, by the way."

"I'm Frank," Frank said, frowning at Gerard now, "Is there something else you wanted?"

"Kind of..." Gerard replied awkwardly, "It's just that I work from home, and I was getting pretty annoyed with you, but, uh... that crash, a few minutes ago, it's just kinda made me worried."

"Oh." Frank said again, opening the door a little wider, "I'm sorry if I've been distracting you or something."

"It's fine, really. Well, I mean," Gerard was starting to fumble his words a little now, in an attempt to not sound like an asshole, "You're excused, 'cause you're sick. But, like... if you're sick it wouldn't be good if you, like, knocked yourself out or something, so I just thought I'd, like, come check you're alright."

Gerard stopped talking, and Frank just looked at him, slightly bemused.

"You say 'like' a lot," he observed.

"I-it's a nervous reaction, sorry," Gerard laughed, as though Frank needed any more reason to think he was weird.

Unexpectedly, Frank smiled, "Nah, it's okay... um," he looked behind him, on the direction of his kitchen, "That crash was me walking into my cupboard and knock all the shelves out."

Gerard wasn't sure whether to laugh or be concerned.

"That's not so good..."

"Eh," Frank shrugged, "I guess not but I'm-"

Frank was interrupted by his own lungs, sending him into an uncontrollable coughing fit as he bent double, throat rattling and every inhale sounding like a wheeze.  
Gerard didn't know what to do as Frank leaned on his own knees, apparently hacking up his own lung, but thankfully it stopped as quickly as it had started. Frank straightened up, red faced and water eyed, and made a noise that proved he was just as fed up with his cough as Gerard was.  
"Do you want some help?" Gerard asked, trying to peer into Frank's apartment without seeming like a creeper.  
"You wouldn't mind?" Frank asked, opening the door fully to reveal a portion of his home and what he was wearing - grey pyjama pants and a more than ratty looking Rancid t-shirt.  
Swinging a headily inked arm, Frank gestured for Gerard to come inside, before succumbing to another minor coughing fit.

Inside, the apartment was fairly tidy, other than the mountain of blankets on the couch, several precarious looking stacks on CDs and vinyl records near a stereo, and what could only be likened to the aftermath of a small explosion in the kitchen.  
The floor and worktop were both littered with broken glass and china, most of it spread across the full area of the linoleum floor, though a few mugs and plates still thankfully remained intact along with two saucepans and a colander, which was laying over on the other side of the room and must have been the rolling sound that Gerard had heard from his apartment. Looking into the open cupboard, it was apparent that the three shelves had all collapsed one side, purging its contents not three minutes before Gerard arrived.

"Well shit." He said, looking at the mess and then turned to Frank, "how the hell did you even manage this?"  
Frank scratched his forehead and scrunched his face, "I forgot I left the cupboard door open and I walked into it- and don't you dare laugh at me." He pointed a warning finger at Gerard, who was slightly insulted  
"I came up here because I was worried about you, I'm not gonna laugh at you being injured."  
"Sorry," Frank coughed hard again, prompting a question from Gerard.  
"Why don't you just go to a doctor?"  
"Let's just say my medical insurance wouldn't cover a papercut." Frank opened a cupboard, carefully avoiding the shattered crockery, and pulled out a dustpan and brush. He got to his knees and started sweeping up the shards, but Gerard wasn't having that.  
"Nuh-uh, no," he strode over to where Frank was knelt, "You sit on the sofa, I'll sort this."  
"You barely know me," Frank said as he struggled to his feet again, "Why're you doing this?"  
"Because," Gerard looked up, and realised exactly why he referred to Frank in his mind as the 'pretty punk boy' - Bright eyes, long lashes, full lips and smooth cheekbones, "You've been coughing since Saturday, and I'm actually worried about you now. You're sick, and you need to rest, so just..." he sighed, "Let me do this, okay?"  
Frank looked conflicted as he studied Gerard's face, probably looking for a hint of psychopathic tendencies in the strangers eyes.  
"Okay," he finally nodded, turning to trudge back over to the sofa, "Thank you, it really means a lot."  
"Hey, if it means you'll get better faster, I'll do it," he grinned over his shoulder at Frank, "Your coughing's been driving me crazy, I need to make a living!"

"What's you job then, if you work from home?"  
Gerard started sweeping, picking anything still intact as he went, "I'm a comic book writer. I've been working on a draft of a new script for the next series, but I haven't been able to get it done and the deadline is this Saturday."  
"Oh," Frank frowned and shifted awkwardly, "Sorry."  
"No, no, it's okay. I mean," Gerard popped his head up over the counter top, "You can't help being sick."  
"I could if I had a proper job, but whatever," he waved a hand and rolled over in the blankets, making Gerard both smile and worry about his well-being.  
"So, do you work?"  
"Five til ten shift at a bar," Frank grumbled, "The pay is pretty basic, but so's my lifestyle. I haven't been able to work the past few days though, so I'm a little low on food."  
Gerard didn't reply for a few long momenta, thinking to himself and frowning at the floor.  
"I can get you some basic stuff if you want?"  
"Dude," Frank's voice was something between offended and surprised, "I'm not a charity case, but if this is just what you're like then no thanks. You're doing enough already."  
Gerard found himself blushing a little. Frank was clearly fed up and trying not to snap at him, when Gerard had seen the pretty punk boy snap at bigger strangers for much less than invading his home and treating him like an incapable invalid.  
Gerard stood up now, dustpan in hand as he walked it to where the bin stood, "Honestly, Frank, it's no trouble at all, I really wouldn't mind. Plus, I don't exactly wan to end up living below a dead man who was too proud to accept food from his neighbour."  
Frank looked a little dumbstruck. Tired, sick, pissed off, pretty, and dumbstruck. He quickly regained his composure as best he could and sniffed at Gerard.  
"You're a little rude, don't you think?"  
Gerard just laughed, "Oh yeah, absolutely. I am a total ass on the best of days." He picked up the most intact glass from the sideboard and filled it with water, walking over and placing it on the table in front of Frank. The younger man looked at him in confusion, making Gerard sigh and pick up the glass again, holding it towards him and waiting for him to take it from him. Looking uncertain, Frank took the glass and drank from it, looking like he didn't want to look at Gerard though.

Once Frank had drained the glass, he spoke, his voice sounding clearer now.  
"I've seen you around. I mean, I knew you lived in the building, I just..." he coughed again, "Didn't know who you were."  
"I've seen you around too." Gerard perched on the coffee table opposite Frank, "You were the guy who tried to save the stray dog a few months ago."  
"Oh... Yeah," he looked away, "I'm a big animal lover. I'd actually been feeding that dog for a few weeks, so she was, like... kind of like a pet?"  
"I'm so sorry, I didn't know."  
"It's okay, I should be over it by now..." he sniffed, "I've seen you hauling canvases and binders of papers around a lot, so I'm guessing you're not just a comic writer?"  
"Ah, no. I'm just an artist who likes to..." he shrugged, "dabble in different arts."  
"The arts? So... art, music and acting?" Frank raised an eyebrow, smirking.  
"Not so much acting, but I sing and play guitar too."  
"Same! Well, I try to sing. Let's just say... my vocals are an acquired taste."  
Gerard laughed, feeling his nose wrinkling and his lips pulling back, and immediately tried to calm down his laughter. He didn't like his laughter face and was very self-conscious of his teeth, but the way Frank looked at him told him that he needn't be self conscious right now.  
"So, uh... do you have a band?"  
"No," Gerard shook his head, "You?"  
"Yeah, we're terrible. Come see us?"  
That made Gerard laugh again, "Did you just quote Scott Pilgrim"  
Frank grinned and shrugged, "Well, I actually paraphrased but yeah."

They sat in a strange kind of silence for a moment, neither of them sure if it should be awkward or not. Gerard glanced at Frank again, and saw him smiling softly, looking more 'alive' than he had done when he answered the door.  
"So... um, I do have work to do-"  
"Oh, yeah! Sorry, you should, uh-"  
"Frank, calm down," Gerard smiled, "It's fine. So long as you keep quiet I can get it done. I've got some, like, general medications at mine - cough syrup, lozenges, NyQuil... I can bring some up?"  
"That would actually be a huge help," Frank smiled, the thankfulness apparent in his eyes, "And I am really sorry for keeping you from your work."  
"It's fine. If it means you get better and I can concentrate then we're all winners." Gerard stood up, walking towards the door, "Also, you'll say yes to drugs but no to food?"  
"What can I say," he shrugged comically, "my priorities are fucked up."  
Gerard laughed again, opening the door and talking over his shoulder, "I'll go grab anything useful and bring it up."

Back in his own apartment, Gerard rummaged through his bathroom cabinet for anything with the words cough, throat, or chest on. Putting all these in a bag, he hurried back upstairs, not wanting to keep Frank waiting for too long. It seemed that his priorities were a little messed up now too, genuinely caring about Frank's immediate well-being than the impending deadline for the fourth and final draft of the comic script.

Upstairs, Frank's door was open a crack, with said punk sat on top of the kitchen counter, waiting for Gerard to return while coughing very heavily into a tissue. Gerard smiled sympathetically at Frank and held up the bag of medication, putting it down beside him.  
"Got everything you could need in there. Oh, actually," Gerard was struck with a thought, quickly checking his pockets and immediate surroundings for a pen or pencil, and paper. Still without explaining himself to a slightly bemused Frank, Gerard pulled a craft store receipt and dived for a Sharpie he spotted on the coffee table.  
He quickly scribbled down what he wanted to on the back of the scrap and handed it to Frank.  
"My number. For, you know," he cleared his throat, "In case you need anything else. Like painkillers or food or..." he shrugged, "You know."  
Frank took it, looking at the number and smiling.  
"Actually... I think I might need some food."  
"Okay, sure." Gerard nodded, mentally shaking his head at his neighbours indecisiveness, "What kind of thing do you want?"  
Frank smirked, "Dinner with you. Saturday night maybe?"  
That had really caught Gerard off guard, leaving him breathless and slightly dizzy for a moment.  
"I mean," Frank carried on, "It'll give me a real reason to try and get better, and it's the least I can do for delaying your script writing. And to thank you for your help."  
"That's... uh," Gerard stammered for a second, blinking probably three times as much as he should, "I'd like that."  
Frank looked surprised, "Wow, really?"  
"Yeah, I would." Gerard smiled nervously as Frank's shocked expression.  
"That was a long shot! I was worried you wouldn't, like... swing that way."  
"Oh, I swing pretty much any way." Gerard laughed, scratching the back of his head.  
"Well... I think I might swing strictly your way."  
Gerard could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, and as much as he liked Frank flirting with him, he felt that he might make a ass of himself if he stayed for much longer.  
"Uh.. I-I have work that I should be, uh... getting in with," he gestured over his shoulder vaguely with his thumb, to which Frank held up his hands.  
"Yes, yes, absolutely. So... I'll call you?"  
Gerard grinned and nodded, "Yeah. I-I guess I'll just... I'll see you around."  
"Bye Gerard, good luck with the writing."  
Frank walked him the few metres to the door and let him back out into the hallway, smiling at him brightly before the door shut between them.

It took everything in Gerard power to stop him from sliding down the wall and sighing like a teenage girl with a crush.

Safe to say, he definitely had the motivation to get his script done in time for his meeting on Saturday morning, and Frank's coughing, though still loud, sounded less painful, and Gerard had more sympathy him now, among other new emotions he felt towards the pretty punk boy upstairs.


End file.
